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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25381477">The Competition</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/KorrohShipper/pseuds/KorrohShipper'>KorrohShipper</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Birthdays, Canon Compliant, Day 1, Domesticity, F/M, July 4th, Married!Steggy, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Steggy - Freeform, Steggy Week 2020, Steggy baby</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 11:14:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,139</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25381477</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/KorrohShipper/pseuds/KorrohShipper</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The competition of <em>who-spoils-the-spouse-on-their-birthday-best</em> wasn't a competition. Or at least, in the beginning, it wasn't.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>54</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Competition</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Day 1 (Sunday): Domestic Bliss</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>To stress the importance of the endeavor, Peggy didn't even wait for the alarm to go off. She had just methodically placed the alarm on Steve's side and resumed her position on the bed, splaying her hand on top of her husband's chest when—</p><p>"<em>Wa-a-aah!</em>" </p><p>Peggy smirked. Her undertaking begins and her victory nigh.</p><p>As a parent of a six month-old son, she should cherish every minute of an uninterrupted night's sleep and she usually does. But today was different.</p><p>Beside her, Steve stirred awake, still sleep bogged and disoriented with grogginess. "I'm up, I'm up," he says without real conviction as his body moved in sluggish protest. </p><p>"No," she says, faking a yawn, peeling off her hand from him, earning a groan of protest.</p><p>"Don't go." He insisted weakly, getting up as the alarm continued to blare weakly into their room the recorded cries of their son. "You're tired. It's my turn anyways." </p><p>Sitting up faster, Peggy silenced him with a soft, lingering kiss that had him sinking back into the sheets. "I'll get him, just rest, Steve. Sleep, my darling." She says softly, hovering above satisfied as he loosened up, exhaling just as he went slack back into sleep.</p><p>Tip-toeing out of the bedroom, still employing a sluggish sway to both sides, when the door clicked a soundly close behind her, Peggy snapped into attention. In roughly three minutes, the recording of James' crying will be brought to a stop and she will be able to proceed with her plans.</p><p>After a quick peek into the nursery where she was met with the soundly sleeping form of her six month-old son, Peggy head on downstairs and prepared her lineup assembly in both the kitchen and his gift.</p><p>To begin, preparations for the 4th of July started months before the actual date—two months, to be precise.</p><p>The reason behind it is convoluted and made complicated beyond immeasurable, reasonable doubt. But if there was one explanation, a single justification for this, it is because she is competitive and so is her husband and losing is an option she refuses to acknowledge.   </p><p>The competition of <em>who-spoils-the-spouse-on-their-birthday-best </em>wasn't a competition. Or at least, in the beginning, it wasn't.</p><p>It began on the eve before her birthday, the 20th of April, the year 1950. Steve showed up at her doorstep, weary and every bit the hot and dusty traveler. He told her of a tale of a distant future of how the world was in the mercy of a mad titan and how a group of extraordinary men and women fought to bring peace.</p><p>Then, he told her he was a part of said group and that he had traveled back in time to collect on that dance, or, if that wasn't what she wanted, then to catch up and remain in a time he thought he had long since then had lost. That he was done fighting a war and that, like every soldier, it was his time to come marching home.</p><p>There were tears and the prospect of pulling a gun was considered, but she couldn't believe her eyes. In front of her, at long last, was Steve Rogers and he looked hopeful for a future in the past and nervous that she might send him away and the marriage of nerves and content, of weary and rejuvenation, of. . .<em>Steve-ness</em>, she couldn't bring herself to turn him away. Not even if her life depended on it</p><p>They danced until their legs grew tired and their breaths became more shallow. When the night came, they danced to a different tune altogether and she wondered if this was all a pleasant dream, and that if it was, a fantasy for a day she knows will never come, despite a cruel apparition of what her life might be, she can never really truly regret it. </p><p>But when the morning of 21 April came to light, with Steve Rogers' arms slung over her waist as he held her towards him in a sleepy embrace, she thinks it is the best birthday present the universe had conspired to give her.</p><p>Come his birthday, it was decided that no time should be wasted—in his world, an astounding seventy years had gone by. A lifetime of missed opportunities and what-if's. A different timeline it may be or the same one, she wasn't going to take that into chance. They're done wasting time. So, on his birthday and, consequently, America's independence day from British rule, Peggy saw it fit to conquer America by proposing to its favourite albeit publicly dead son.</p><p>Naturally, he said yes.</p><p>And so, the competition began: Christmases were filled with playful banter as they tried to outdo each other, Valentines' was almost ruled by boxes of chocolates—only English chocolates, of course—they would share by the fireplace at the end of the day paired with a fine red wine, anniversaries had both surprise and planned trips or even just an intimate night out, and birthdays were spectacles to behold.</p><p>It was even, to their friends, already a yearly expected bet, the challenge of who spoiled who best was already garnering an impressive pool of money and sweets and assorted trinkets. Currently, as per Angie's advice, the betting pool was stacked against her and it was for a good reason.</p><p>Before her birthday, Peggy was fairly certain she'd win. For his last birthday, she had announced to him, right there in their then unfurnished kitchen of their new home, the expansion of their little family of two. He had spun her around, grinning ear to ear before giving her a kiss that had, in a way, conveyed to her, the love and hope and gratefulness he had for her because of the life they had built together.</p><p>And, upon the birth of their son—not that he's a bargaining chip for the competition because he's not, <em>really he's not</em>—Peggy thinks how on earth could he top that?</p><p>Apparently, very easily with a trek to Europe. Her birthday present was also in the form of a human being albeit this one had all higher mental faculties and was far more decidedly British. </p><p>Steve had returned to her and her parents Michael. He was thinner, dark circles loomed under his eyes, but he gave that same Carter smile as he said, in a tired, hoarse and raspy but settled voice. "I'm home, Peggy old mum."</p><p>On top of returning Michael, Steve had employed the help of Howard and the inescapable talents of Mr. Jarvis in recreating the pub in London back in the war. He even, to ensure authenticity, managed to find a poster of his USO show. Soft and slow music played as danced the night away with her before, on the cusp of tomorrow, he had pulled away to give him her gift.</p><p>"It was hard, but totally worth it." He says, going down on one knee.</p><p>"Darling, I've already asked you." She reminds with an eye roll, but she cannot fight the smile that made its way to her lips. "And as I recall, you already said yes."</p><p>"Back in '16, my Ma met my Pa and they fell in love. A year after that, he asked her to be his wife with a ring. It was a claddagh ring, the one his pa gave to his ma and the one before that." He gave out a shaky breath, love twinkling in his eyes, "There was a rough winter back in '32 and without medication, I wouldn't have made it. Ma had no money so she pawned off the ring Pa gave her."</p><p>She took the chance to study the ring that she took into her fingers. There was engraving inside.</p><p>
  <em> S &amp; J </em>
</p><p>"You know, my Ma said that his parents were married for 46 years. When my Pa died, all his stuff was lost with him. The ring was the one thing she had from him." Then, he gave that same, shy, boyish smile that she remembered seeing from him when he was at the bar of the pub. "I figured that if we could keep it with us, well, we'd get 46 years, too."</p><p>Then it clicked on her. "Oh." She breathed out, eyes now gazing upon the ring. "Steve, this is. . .I don't think I have the right words for this." And she couldn't—a keepsake from his mother and father, one that was lost for so long, a symbol of his parents and his family and that was his gift.</p><p>"You don't have to say anything—" then, he smiles and adds cheekily, "—I already said yes." He finishes with a dreamy-laced, breathless chuckle.</p><p>"You oaf."</p><p>"<em>Your</em> oaf." He corrected with a grin before adding, "I'm yours, I've only ever been yours to have." And to this moment, as she gazed down on her hand, that Irish claddagh ring on her hand, she thinks she loves more and more everyday and the life they have built together. </p><p>The night had been magical. While the spy in her was waiting for the other shoe to drop, she couldn't help but cherish the moment—a wonderful intelligence agency, her brother back from the dead, the love of her life and their family.</p><p>Upon recalling the event, Ana and Angie exchanged a look that could only mean the tables of the pool had turned and the tides of the competition had changed. Even she had to admit, her birthday was perfect.</p><p>But, when she thinks of her birthday and the lengths he had gone through to make her day, it had strengthened her resolve to make his special as well. Competition be damned and victory be lost, those things didn't matter, not really. Seeing him smile, their family together safe and sound, that was truly all Peggy strove for.</p><p>And for all he's done for their little family and their group of friends, for this world even, it's high time he gets his just dessert.</p>
<hr/><p>A last minute mission from SHIELD had Steve panting to catch his breath and when he was finally cleared to go home, he had all but collapsed to the bed.</p><p>He woke up sporadically in the night—restless fits of clawing at his chest because he had forgot to actually change out of his uniform. What followed was a groggy series of hit and miss throw to the hamper bin of his uniform before collapsing into the bed once more. </p><p>Another reason was a nightmare. He woke up in cold sweat, but upon seeing Peggy, there by his side, peacefully sleeping, he couldn't help but sink back into sleep.</p><p>The third and final time was a cry. James was up and his body immediately went to autopilot as he tried to sit up when Peggy had stopped him, checking up on their son instead and letting him sleep off.</p><p>When he woke up in the morning, he was significantly much more well rested, the sluggish and heaviness his body felt had been erased away by the night's sleep.</p><p>He turned to his side and his eyebrows furrowed—Peggy woke up before him. He must have been really sleepy not to notice.</p><p>He sat up, lounging in the warmth of the bed, stretching his arms when he heard a floorboard creak and Peggy's hushed tones. Steve paused, for a moment, until he remembered what day it was.</p><p>The 4th of July. His birthday.</p><p>The door eventually creaked open tentatively and Peggy peeked in on for her smile to grow even wider though she hid it under one of dismay and exasperation. "I swear," she said, balancing a tray on one hand and Jamie on the other, "you are an impossible man to surprise."</p><p>Steve simply smiled, letting his breath leave his parted lips for just a moment. She looked every bit haggard, her hair was slightly mussed and there were stains of flour and egg on her shirt but she's still the most beautiful woman he's ever seen.</p><p>"Impossible?" he asks, a tad bit breathless as he stood up to help only to be given a firm look that he stay on the bed. "Peggy Carter, you are full of surprises."</p><p>"Really? Living in the future, I doubt that would leave room for surprises."</p><p>"Yeah, well I never expected you to keep taking my breath away each day but here we are. I never thought that I could love someone more and more but with—"</p><p>The tray was placed on his lap, "—yes, yes, with me, you find that you could." She finished for him with an exaggerated eye roll but she still leaned in for a kiss, nonetheless, one that lingered longer than necessary. "<em>Charmer</em>."</p><p>"Good morning," he greets instead only to be rewarded with a wrinkled nose. "What?"</p><p>"Darling, love of my life, husband dearest, you are the single most wonderful man, the most amazing father to James, and I love you truly so, but your morning breath is atrocious, so help me God."</p><p>He gave a hearty chuckle, hands falling to his stomach. "You say the most romantic things." He says with a twinkle in his eyes before he had been given a fork and Jamie had been settled beside him.</p><p>"Yes, well, today is an exception." Then the playful gleam on her face had mellowed into a more calm, soft gaze upon him, her free hand reaching his and gave a gentle squeeze. "Happy birthday, my darling."</p><p>"Thank you." He lifted her hand and pressed his lips just on the knuckle of her fingers. "I mean it, this is amazing. Thank you, Pegs."</p><p>"Now, birthday boy, you enjoy the day but a word of warning: we're going out tonight."</p><p>"Or we could stay at home, enjoy a lazy day."</p><p>Peggy, possessed of grace and maturity, stuck out her tongue. "And let you win, my darling?" Steve couldn't fight back the grin as he forked the serving of scrambled eggs. "Never."</p><p>"Not even if my birthday wish is to win?" he called out. </p><p>"I'm afraid the world is not a wish-granting factory, my darling, not even for its most star-spangled defender's birthday." </p><p>Peggy left the room, for the moment, and his gaze fell on Jamie. "Hey, buddy." He greets brightly which earned a chirpy fit of gurgles and giggles. "Want to tell me what Mama has in plan?" </p><p>Jamie simply rolled on his stomach, a toothless smile on his face before he gathered the boy into his arms and propped him up just by the crook of his arm. Steve leaned in to press a kiss atop the small fluff of hair he had amassed, inhaling the satisfying powder fresh scent of his son when it occurred to him, just two years ago, has someone told him this would be his life, he would have spent an entire day trying to map out the reasons on why it wasn't possible and—fail to—convince himself that he was not meant for the white picket fence, or the home he always dreamed of.</p><p>But now, now with Jamie happily babbling on hos arms, the familiar sound of Peggy's movement downstairs, he thinks, there is no greater gift than what he has now.</p>
<hr/><p>The day was nothing short of perfect—his morning with the garden and a recipe he'e been dying to make. It comes out a but toasty on the side but the flavors mingle in his tongue just right and gave it a thumbs up. </p><p>Peggy had to run to the office for a quick errand in the afternoon, kissing him goodbye with a soft, smiling reminder that he should get ready to leave by the time she returns. </p><p>A bottle of baby formula, a half-soaked bathroom courtesy of Jamie, and a thorough scrub for him later, Steve found himself presentable once more when Peggy returned. A wicker basket in hand, she tugged him to her direction and pulled over a blindfold over his eyes. </p><p>"Should I be scared?" he asked teasingly with a chuckle, allowing himself to be lead outside of their home and into one of the cars. The drive was uneventful, but he noticed an anomaly—wherever they are, for the fourth of July, it was quiet. Very quiet. </p><p>The car door clicked open and Peggy fingers latched unto the crook of his arms, leading him to wherever her surprise was—</p><p>"You can take it off now."</p><p>From the sound of her voice, Steve could tell that she herself could barely contain her own smile. The light filtered in to his eyes and he winced, momentarily, until he recognized the familiar path.</p><p>"Central Park?" he asks.</p><p>It was empty. He had never seen the park so desolate of people. </p><p>"A number of strings were pulled, but yes," Peggy supplied, pointing to a clearing where there was a blanket and a wicker basket. "We've got the park to ourselves for the night."</p><p>Steve bounced Jamie as they he sat down on the blanket, settling on the feel of his hand against the grass when Peggy opened up the basket and whipped out some sandwiches and a birthday cake. In a soft song, she hummed the "Happy Birthday" tune as she lit the candles on top.</p><p>"Happy birthday, may darling." She said, voice gone soft and Steve couldn't help the feel of his heart skipping a beat when the warm light of the candle lit fire had hit her just right, or how that stubborn strand of hair kept untucking and curling itself out of her ear, even that small spot of her cheek that had been smudged with a piece of the frosting. He wondered, truly and completely, what good he did in his past life for this small moment of life.</p><p>This slice of life that he never thought he's have.</p><p>"What?" she asks, jarring him out of his thoughts and back to the moment.</p><p>"I love you," he breathes out, toying with Jamie's chubby fingers before giving a watery chuckle. "I didn't think it was possible to fall deeper and more madly in love with you but I do. Every single day, Peggy." He leaned in for a kiss, but Jamie had given a loud squawk, squirming endlessly in his arms as he watched in awe at the fireworks. </p><p>Despite it, Peggy laughed and surged forward, placing a chaste peck on his lips before gathering their son into her arms, attentively staring at the firework display. "Oh, yes, my darling, very colorful, see?" </p><p>The red and blue lights filtered down to them, and while he didn't get the kiss he expected, Steve was happy to have his fingers woven into hers, watching contently as the scene unfolded—a family enjoying the fireworks display for the fourth.</p><p>"This is a real swell birthday, Peg."</p><p>Then, there was snicker from his wife. She gave him a look that was both smug and an anticipation that was bursting from the seems. "What?"</p><p>"I haven't even given you my present."</p><p>And the moment, corny as it sounds, he couldn't really ask for more. Not when it's already perfect.</p><p>Peggy, with Jamie still in her arms, twisted around to search the inventory of the basket and, with a flourish, presented a small packet of a candy treat—</p><p>"No!" Steve immediately lunged for it. He unwrapped the familiar egg shaped treat, relishing the rich chocolate scent. "But how?"</p><p>The Kinder Egg is scheduled to be introduced to the public in the year 1974. The first time he's tasted one was in Germany in a PR tour for the Avengers. He had visited a hospital and when one of the kids there—a young girl, a little over 8 years old—told him that her favorite snack was a Kinder Egg which, as she explained, had a chocolate filling and had a toy hidden inside.</p><p>As a sickly kid, he remembered spending his days in bed and when his Ma would come home after a shift at the hospital, she's always bring him a chocolate egg from the sweets shop near the train station.</p><p>So when Dinah told him, conspiratorially leaning into his ear, he sprang into action and left the hospital only to return with a box of Kinder Egg for the whole ward to enjoy. </p><p>But that was in the future. And he's in the past, in 1951.</p><p>Dipping the tip of his pinky into the chocolate cream, he popped it into his mouth and moaned orgasmically, head bending back at the familiar, rich chocolate taste that just wrapped a velvet silk all over his mouth. "How?"</p><p>Peggy smiled mysteriously, producing another one from the basket. "I have my ways." But he pressed on with a look and she laugh, "Your phone had this little application with videos, the one with the white arrow on the red—"</p><p>Steve hummed and lightened up, "You mean Youtube!" </p><p>"Yes," Peggy says cautiously, a smile on her face as she raised an eyebrow at his enthusiasm. "The video app has a video on a giant chocolate egg."</p><p>Steve remembered the incident well. "When Tony found out I liked a Kinder Egg, he told me it was banned in the country. But then, he said there's nothing illegal on <em>making one</em>, let alone a giant one. He was supposed to make a giant one but. . ." his enthusiasm toned down and Peggy leaned in closer, their shoulders touching. She knew enough, from his mannerism, what he meant. </p><p>It was a story that would happen, in the future, but she cannot know. Not yet.</p><p>"I'll have you know that there's a healthy stash being stocked in our fridge as we speak." Steve lightened up at this. "Ana and Mr. Jarvis helped with creating the snack while Howard had procured the ingredients."</p><p>"By procured, you mean grocery shopping?"</p><p>"No." She said with a laugh. "By procured, I meant he flew a plane over to Colombia for some cacao and then to New Zealand for the milk." She gave a wistful, amused smile as she remembered that Mr. Jarvis had tasked it upon himself to concoct the chocolate treat and has proven himself a skilled and masterful chocolatier. </p><p>"That's not very environmentally friendly."</p><p>She eyed the egg, which he now held to his chest possessively. "Do you like your chocolate egg?"</p><p>Steve took a good look at the egg, switching between the snack and Peggy when he broke into a grin and took on a spoonful again. "I'll thank Howard in the morning."</p><p>Another round of fireworks lit up the sky, and this time, there was a much more buzzing, nervous energy around Peggy. "What's wrong?"</p><p>"It's almost time." She said, flashing a small package—it was thin, probably a book or a notebook wrapped in yesterday's newspaper and neatly tied up with a strand of striped wire</p><p>"What's this?"</p><p>There was a card, on the front. The message was short, written in Peggy's neat cursive handwriting. </p><p>
  <em> 'The first chapter of our lives.'  </em>
</p><p>"Peggy. . ."</p><p>"No. Open it!" Although reluctant, he tore into the wrappers.</p><p>"What's—"</p><p>He recognized the shield. It was him. "I met a nice illustrator and writer, he's agreed to make this—" Steve flipped through the pages, in awe of each page of his life being chronicled. "It starts with the war, but, if you'll flip to the end, darling."</p><p>He tugged on the last page and a small breath of air had been gasped out, a small pocket of shock and awe and he didn't know how to react to this. </p><p>The last page was of him, waking up in the future, surrounded by the people he's come to know as family—in the comic book, obviously under a different name—and he saw the familiar face of Tony. </p><p>"How did you. . .Pegs, this is—"</p><p>"You always say how you want our family to know without knowing too much." She says, casting a small smile at their son, now dozing off in her arms. "Well, let this moment be the first chapter."</p><p>The first chapter where he decides to stay.</p><p>"Damn it," he says, his vision running blurry. "You knocked it out the ballpark."</p><p>"What?" innocent as that face may be, she knew full well what he meant. </p><p>"You won."</p><p>She gave a triumphant harrumph. "I did, didn't I?" but she gave that look, that same look that she'd give when she thinks he's not looking, the same look he'd get when he thinks to himself he's the one to who won because of this life they've begun to build. </p><p>Then, much more solemnly, much more softly without the cause for competition. "My darling." She runs a smooth circle on the back of his palm. "My partner, happy birthday, my love."</p><p>This time, when he leans in to give his wife a proper kiss, he makes sure she gets it.</p>
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